


If You're Willing

by jonsasnow



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Just some fluff for the soul, Teen Wolf AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 21:38:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8770294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonsasnow/pseuds/jonsasnow
Summary: OTP Prompt: "my friend dragged me to this party and I just saw my ex quick make out with me"In which Lydia is dragged to a party because she's been moping around since her breakup with Jackson and Derek's been dragged to a party because he hasn't gone on a date in over a year.





	

**Author's Note:**

> There is honestly not enough Dydia fanfics in the interwebz and that makes me really sad because they're honestly one of my fav crack!ships ever. 
> 
> Aka if you guys have any prompts for me, comment below! 
> 
> But just thank you for reading at all! <3

There's a dull thudding at the back of her head that Lydia just knows has nothing to do with the mindless dance music pulsing throughout the house. The beer she has in hand isn't helping matters either. The only thing that could help is a nice hot bath and an early night curled up in her bed. Only that's a dream currently out of her reach. She could try – _again_ – to leave but Allison has her hawklike talons in Lydia tonight and leaving would only incur the wrath of her roommate. _Apparently_ she has already spent too many of her nights locked away in her room or the library since breaking up with Jackson. And even if Lydia tries to tell Allison that the self-imposed isolation is solely due to her looming exams and nothing to do with the jackass ex-boyfriend that cheated on her – _well_ , Lydia's not that good of a liar and Allison is far too perceptive. 

So here she is at some party thrown by some guys on the outskirts of campus with flat beer and an awfully persistent headache. Allison is in the adjoining living room draped over her boyfriend looking far too cute to be socially acceptable in front of a recently single friend but Lydia could hardly begrudge her best friend for being _happy_ just because she'd rather stab her stilettos into the next boy to hit on her. It's all awful, frankly, and unfortunately it's only 11 and far too early for Lydia to slip away. A couple more hours and everyone will be too drunk to notice – at least that is her plan. 

It's infuriating though, if Lydia's being honest with herself (which isn't often – ignorance is often bliss in the Martin household). A month ago and Lydia would've been that girl dancing in the middle of the makeshift dancefloor surrounded by people. She used to be the life of the party – but the emphasis on _used to be_. Since walking in on Jackson's bare ass on top of some writhing blonde, Lydia's lost the will to care about these things. Aside from Allison, and on occasion her boyfriend Scott and his dumbass best friend Stiles, Lydia doesn't even _like_ the people at these parties. She hated Jackson's friends; she hated pretending to be dumber than him for his sake; she hated feeling like a trophy wife when she went to watch his lacrosse games. It's stupid, she knows now with crystal clear clarity, how she changed for him. Lydia never meant to. She had very little tolerance for people trying to take advantage of her – in fact some might even consider her selfish and spoiled – but with Jackson, it had been hard to see him for what he was: an asshole. 

The sigh Lydia lets escape has the three girls nearby staring at her. She must be a pathetic sight standing there in her hot red minidress alone and miserable. Only a couple more hours and she can slip away, she repeats like a mantra in her head. 

Lydia pushes herself from the kitchen counter she's been leaning on and heads into the living room where Allison is. There isn't a free seat beside her best friend so she hovers by the table of alcohol. She downs the rest of her drink in one swig and begins to fill up her red solo cup with more awful beer. A booming voice rises above the music and the sound chills the blood in her veins. 

_Oh no…_

Lydia turns with apprehension to see Jackson and his friends entering the living room, an annoyingly happy smile on his face as if he hadn't just lost the greatest thing to ever happen to him only a month ago. Lydia sneers but remembers with sinking horror she is _still_ alone drinking by herself. 

Turning abruptly to the closest guy to her, Lydia grabs his shoulders. "Do you have a girlfriend?" she snaps at him. He looks back with wide curious eyes and shakes his head. "Thank god," she murmurs before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down to her. 

The kiss is harsh. Their lips crash together because of her haste but the moment she feels him respond to her, something hot and warm and wonderful curls deep in her stomach. He wraps his arms around her waist, flushing her against his broad chest, and Lydia is half-tempted to hitch her legs around his waist, somehow knowing he'd be able to carry her weight easily. That thought alone sends a thrill of desire through her body as she cards her fingers through his hair to deepen the kiss. 

When Lydia eventually pulls away from him, she takes in the sight of her stranger. His lips are swollen pink from kissing her, his dark hair sticking out at different odds and ends, and she thinks he is the most handsome _man_ she's seen in a long, long time. "Ex-boyfriend," she breathes out as an explanation, her heart still racing erratically. 

He nods, a smile twitching at his lips. "Not complaining." His hands are still wrapped around her waist and hers are resting over his chest as if she has any right to be touching him like this. 

Lydia begrudgingly steps away from him and he allows his hands to fall back to his side. She doesn't miss the note of disappointment in his eyes and that makes her smirk. "I'm Lydia." 

"Derek," he answers with a responding smirk. "Is your ex still here?" 

"Don't know," Lydia says, and she realises she doesn't. She hasn't looked away from Derek at all and it's then she realises something else. "Don't really care." 

Derek laughs and it makes Lydia's smile turn genuine. For a second, neither of them say anything but grin stupidly at the other. It's bizarre and ultimately ridiculous – only Lydia doesn't care because Derek is hot – _mind-numbingly hot_ – and he's looking at her like she's the answer he didn't think to ask about. 

"Want to get out of here?" he asks after a moment. 

"I thought you'd never ask." 

++++++++++++++++++++++++

He's going to kill Stiles. He's going to rip that scrawny lil piece of shit in half for bringing him to this godforsaken party as if Derek is the type of guy to actually enjoy a college party. _He's not._ If Stiles knows him at all he would know this – in fact his steadfast refusal to attend drunk college parties is probably the first thing anyone ever learns about Derek. 

Besides, everyone here is younger than him and that grates on his nerves more than it should. It doesn't really matter in reality if they're eighteen or twenty-four like him. It hardly matters to Derek that Stiles and Scott are only twenty because for some inexplicable reason he still likes the two morons. 

But tonight it's different. Tonight, it feels like the age difference is glaringly obvious and he's a sore thumb standing out in a sea of drunk hardly even legal college students. He wants to be home surrounded by his graduate research books – which is a first, and considering somehow that is more inviting to him than a party Derek knows he's really out of his depth here. 

"Oh c'mon, Sour Wolf, can you at least stop scowling at everyone here?" Stiles complains beside him. "You're scaring away all the girls!" 

Derek bristles at the horrible nickname. "Don't you have a girlfriend?"

"Of course I do," Stiles looks at him indignantly. "I'm not looking for _me_. Even if I had any desire whatsoever of cheating, the thought of Malia castrating me is enough to keep me monogamous." 

"Malia would be the last of your worries," Derek snorts, a little amused at how undeniably _whipped_ Stiles is, especially by Derek's baby cousin – though he supposes she's not so much a baby anymore at nineteen. 

"Yeah, yeah," Stiles waves off, unperturbed by Derek's underlying threat but he's heard enough of them to be immune. "When was the last time you even went out on a date?" 

"That's none of your business." 

But the truth is Derek doesn't even remember. He wants to say it's because graduate school has kept him too busy for a love life but even he can see how weak that lie is. It doesn't help that most of his classmates are in longterm relationships – and one is even fucking married. 

"Dude, you broke up with Braeden over a year ago now!" Stiles whines. "Get back on that saddle!"

A few people nearby look over and smile at them, causing Derek to groan, _loudly_. He grips Stiles by the collar of his shirt and jerks him forward. "Stiles, I'm warning you. This is none of your business." 

Stiles rolls his eyes and slaps his hands away. "You're no fun." The idiot pouts for a second before walking away. "Scott! Can you get your lips off of your girlfriend for one minute? Sour Wolf there is being grumpy and now you have to entertain me." 

There's a responding indignant snort but Derek has already turned away from his so-called friends. He really should have guessed that the two morons would have invited him despite knowing full well he hates parties just to chuck him at some girl. 

Maybe a part of him appreciates that they care so much but the reigning part is annoyed and exasperated, even if he knows they probably did have a point. His last relationship ended fifteen months ago and Derek hasn't so much as looked at another person since. It isn't as if he had been madly in love with Braeden but they _had_ something. It was a future – a promise of something after graduation, maybe even a family further down the line. Only it turned out Derek was the only one to see that future. Braeden wanted to travel. She wanted to be free and not tied down by a relationship. She wanted out and Derek let her and that future go. 

Looking back, Derek couldn't feel angry at Braeden for her choice. They had been twenty-three-year-old college students with so much of the world left to experience. He still loves her enough to know she deserves to have those experiences without him.

Walking to the drinks table, Derek is determined to have another beer before leaving. He needs _something_ to clear his mind of his ex-girlfriend. 

Only he had been expecting cold cheap beer not a stunning redhead to pull him from his thoughts. 

"Do you have a girlfriend?" she asks, her brows furrowing forward in irritation. Derek doesn't know what's made her so annoyed but he's too distracted by her hands on his shoulders to really wonder at her tone. 

The next thing he knows she's leaning into him and kissing him soundly on the lips. Derek freezes out of instinct, feeling less like the man he is and more like his former fifteen-year-old self, terrified and anxious around beautiful girls. It takes him a few seconds too long but in the end, Derek returns her kiss with a surprising hunger he really shouldn't be feeling towards a strange girl, even if she's sinfully gorgeous. 

Derek winds his arms around her waist and pulls her flushed to his body, uncaring if people are watching, only knowing that this strange girl feels and tastes amazing. Something about her has lit every nerve in his body alive with desire, and if not for the gentle push back, Derek doesn't think he could _stop_ kissing her. She's intoxicating – far more addictive than she has any right to be. 

"Ex-boyfriend."

Derek only nods in understanding because he _does_ get that. If Braeden isn't in South America traipsing through tropical jungles and is here right now, he might have employed a similar method to make his ex jealous – as petty as that is. But does this girl know the effect she has on him? Does she know how she could say she only kissed him to prove some asinine point and he'd still be putty in her hands? _Probably not_ , he thinks. "Not complaining," he instead tells her.

The girl moves away from him and Derek drops his hands to his side. His hands itch to pull her back but she's a stranger and that's surely crossing a line. 

"I'm Lydia," she smirks at him, clearly knowing exactly what he's thinking. It unnerves him but it also excites him. 

"Derek," he returns her smirk because the flush on her cheeks suggest he's having a similar effect on her, and damn it if that doesn't make him feel smug. "Is your ex still here?" 

"Don't know," Lydia answers instantly then something like surprise flashes so briefly across her eyes that he has to wonder if it was there at all. "Don't really care." 

This makes him laugh and he feels it in his chest like a slow rumble. He's surprised by how happy he is in this moment. Maybe it's the alcohol or maybe it's the way she's looking at him like he's something to be devoured, so emboldened, he asks her, "want to get out of here?" 

"I thought you'd never ask." 

And the smile Lydia sends his way is altogether too mischievous to not know where this is leading to and he makes a mental note to thank Stiles in the morning. 

As Derek leads her out of the house, her hand wrapped in his, he's hit suddenly as if he can see into the future that this girl right here, this devastating redhead, has the potential to break him in a way Braeden never could and god, he really just doesn't care.

He's willing if she is. 


End file.
